


He Smely

by Valaxiom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bath, Crack, F/F, Fluff, GARBAGE MAN GETS A BATH, Gen, Humour, Mild Language, Missing Scene, No Smut, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Written As A Birthday Present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaxiom/pseuds/Valaxiom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being recruited by Overwatch, the Junkers find it a bit difficult to be part of a team in a world with indoor plumbing and soap. Junkrat's refusal to so much as wash his face eventually forces his teammates to take matters into their own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Smely

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend who requested something with Junkrat! I didn't feel like writing more angst and I felt like expanding my horizons, so this is all fluffy Overwatch Team crack.

At first, Junkrat’s appearance was understandable. Having grown up in an irradiated wasteland, it stood to reason that regular bathing or washing of any sort was unheard of for the junker. His remarkable expertise with explosives and mayhem could also be attributed to a harsh life in the ruined Australian Outback. Thanks to his unique skills, the other members of Overwatch were willing to look past their new comrade’s unfortunate smell.

Conversely, Roadhog’s hygiene was perfect. He took a shower on the first night at Gibraltar and maintained a more-or-less consistent pattern of washing (even his nails were neatly trimmed.)

Junkrat, on the other hand, was coated with enough grime to bury Pompeii under. The coat of smudgy ash and dirt prevented anyone from being able to tell what his actual skin colour was, and his hair was peppered with burn marks. D.va swore up and down that she’d seen him with it on fire one time in the middle of a battle, and he hadn’t even noticed, other than absently patting the small blaze out with one filthy hand.

After one week of the junkers being Overwatch recruits, it was becoming gross. Soldier: 76 and Mercy started dropping hints about using the shower that had been oh-so-thoughtfully provided for the junkers. Mei left a grocery bag of assorted shampoos and soaps outside their door. Winston tried to enlist Roadhog in encouraging his teammate into at least scrubbing his face; the bodyguard simply shrugged and stayed mute.

By week two, Zarya had challenged Junkrat to an arm wrestling contest. The audience (consisting of Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Mei, and Fareeha), groaned in unison when the rat _baaarely_ slithered free of Zarya’s grasp to run away from the tub of hot water she’d been trying to drop him into. Every time after that that Zarya tried to wrestle the smaller junker, Roadhog would take his place. Zarya would still win, but in a way, it was just like losing.

Around week three, Lucio tried to convince Junkrat to go for a swim in the ocean.

“It’ll be great! The water’s awesome this time of year!”

(That was a lie.)

(Lucio ended up standing in the Atlantic ocean with his teeth chattering.)

(It was freezing cold.)

After about an hour of trying to convince an unenthusiastic Junkrat to go swimming, Lucio had nothing to show for his efforts, aside from the fact that most of his body below the neck had gone numb from standing in the barely-tolerable salt water.

Pharah’s attempt at bombing the junker with an armful of water ballons from the air backfired miserably when he not only avoided every single balloon, but somehow managed to deflect them back at her. When she showed up soaking wet with bits of balloon caught in her armour in the barracks, there was a defeated sigh from the other members of Overwatch.

The next day, Mei “accidentally” almost managed to spray Junkrat with a hose while in the base’s loading bay. He dodged it narrowly and screamed obscenities for the next three hours until Roadhog sat on him. Mei apologized, but admitted freely to the others that the incident had not been an accident.

After D.va almost managed to dump a bottle of water on Junkrat after beating him in Mario Kart (poured into a used Mountain Dew bottle to thwart suspicion), the junker started to wise up. He successfully avoided the bucket of soapy water that Tracer had perched on top of his doorframe. He laughed off Reinhardt’s offer of a trip to the nearest waterslide park, even after being promised ice cream. No matter how many times his name showed up on the Duty Chart (created by Winston to keep the base in workable shape) to do the dishes or mop the floors, he never did it; the younger members of the team would sneak into the kitchen, hoping to at least splash the rat with some dish water, only to find Roadhog serenely doing his employer’s chores. 

Around week four, the team’s attitude toward’s Junkrat’s smell had gone from good-natured tolerance all the way to sheer revulsion. The smell had become a physical presence around the base. If the sound of his giggling didn’t alert people to Junkrat’s approach, the wave of the combined scents of sulfur, smoke, unwashed human, and gasoline certainly would.

An emergency meeting was called by Lucio to address the issue when the two junkers were out on a mission together with Soldier: 76, Mercy, and Torbjorn. The diverse group in the kitchen included Lena, Lucio, Hana, Fareeha, Zarya, Mei, and Reinhardt.

“Man, he stinks,” said Lucio bluntly. “How are we going to get that guy to take a shower or something? I know for a fact that we’ve all tried to take matters into our own hands, but that hasn’t worked too well so far. If we brainstorm this, we might be able to come up with something. Anyone have any brilliant ideas?”

“He’s smelly,” D.va agreed.

“Why does he hate water so much?” mused Lena.

“Force of habit, most likely. Perhaps it gave him camouflage in the Outback,” said Zarya. “Living up in the shadow of the Omnic Crisis affected everyone in our generation differently. Some took it better than others.”

“That’s true, but the dude’s going to get sick if he never washes.”

“I vote that we just swarm him and drag him into a bath,” said Mei. “Someone can distract Roadhog so that the little bully doesn’t escape.”

“We’d have to make sure he’s disarmed,” said Lena.

“The best time to do it will be right when they get back from the mission- they’ll all be tired, and Junkrat will probably be filthiest then. He’ll also have used up most of his explosives,” said Fareeha.

“How do you know that for sure?” asked Reinhardt. Fareeha responded with a thousand yard stare.

“I was on the last mission with him. He will refuse to board the transport until he’s lit the fuse on every single explosive he has on his person.”

“Well... on the plus side, that means he doesn’t have all those demolitions with him on the transport. Makes getting back a bit safer, yeah?” said Lena.

“It also made getting out of what was supposed to be a stealth operation extremely difficult,” said Pharah through gritted teeth.

“Ah. Gotcha, love.”

“Anyways,” said Lucio. “We’re all okay with this plan? Who want to distract Roadhog?”

Silence.

Zarya sighed.

“I will intercept the bodyguard as soon as the team returns. I shall arm wrestle him and make it look like I might lose. That will take up enough time for you all to drag the rat into a bath.”

“Thanks Zarya!”

“I can watch them and act like everyone else is off doing stuff,” said Mei quickly. She was blushing. “I can... be a distraction if anything happens. Or say that I don’t really believe that Zarya could beat Roadhog, even though I do. I will observe. To make sure that no one is interrupted. I-I will certainly not be there because-Zarya’s-arms-are-beautiful-oh-my-god-so-many-muscles.”

Zarya pretended not to notice the other woman’s lapse, but Lucio caught a glimpse of her looking gleeful as the two agents walked towards the docking bay together, near where the ship would come in. Before the door shut, he could have sworn that he saw Zarya ruffle Mei’s hair.

***

When Junkrat returned from the mission, he wasn’t expecting to be attacked again. The team had been successful, but Junkrat was a bit tired- the excitement of finally being allowed to set dozens of enemy soldiers on fire had really worn him out. So when D.va, fully ensconced in her Meka, leapt on top of him and pinned him to the ground, Junkrat was able to blame the exhaustion for his carelessness.

He immediately started wriggling and shouting for Roadhog, but the bodyguard was absent from his side. Apparently Roady had assumed that his employer was safe on his own within the Overwatch base. The Meka was quickly assisted in its task by a group of other Overwatch agents; Tracer, looking determined, quickly snatched Junkrat’s empty grenade launcher out of its holster.

As he was lugged along the hallway, Junkrat caught a faint whiff of soap in the air, along with the sound of running water. A pool of dread formed in his stomach as he realized where he was being taken.

“Noooo! Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go, you over-extended rusty bucket o’ scrap! Please, not the water! I thought we was mates!”

His pleas fell upon deaf ears. Sped up by Lucio’s music, the group trudged towards the bathroom. Reinhardt was waiting next to a massive tub and wearing inconceivably large yellow gloves, which he used to grab Junkrat out of D.va’s grip and plunge the grimy little man into the water. Junkrat howled wordlessly, only to almost choke on the lavender-scented bubbles. He gurgled pathetically, looking for all the world like a drowned rat.

It took over an hour to rinse all the grime off of the junker. The bath had to be drained and refilled four times to replace the mucky water, but by the end, the team had discovered that Junkrat was blonde. He also had freckles all over his face, which Tracer wouldn’t stop giggling about. When Roadhog finally showed up (Zarya and Mei arrived soon after, and everyone pretended not to notice the smeared pink lipstick on Mei’s face), to rescue his employer, Junkrat was glowering in a magenta bathrobe and reluctantly allowing D.va to repaint his nails with sparkly black nail polish.

Roadhog examined his squeaky-clean partner, gave a thumbs up, and left. Junkrat's wails for his bodyguard to rescue him went ignored as Lucio attacked the rat's tangled (but clean and smelling of strawberries) hair. 

Reinhardt was surprisingly good at trimming hair, and soon the unkempt mop of blond hair had become several inches shorter and neater.  

Lucio even lent Junkrat some new clothes to replace his old shorts (which had been delivered to the BioWaste disposal in the medical bay while Junkrat was getting his manicure). 

That evening in the mess hall, at least a dozen agents congratulated the newest recruit on joining Overwatch. Junkrat sulked next to Roadhog and sipped his milk tea. Roadhog silently passed his partner a napkin when he dribbled some of the drink down his chin. 

Junkrat stuck his tongue out, but wiped his face. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Casual reminder that I have an Overwatch tumblr, andshesbackinthegame, and a main blog, thirteen-magpies.tumblr.com.


End file.
